


Mad, bad or sad?

by D_f_m22



Series: Beach House Bliss [1]
Category: The Flight Attendant (TV)
Genre: F/F, Mental Health Issues, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29609406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_f_m22/pseuds/D_f_m22
Summary: Now it was Cassie’s turn to help Miranda.To say she was shit scared would be an understatement.
Relationships: Cassie Bowden/Miranda Croft
Series: Beach House Bliss [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2175408
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	Mad, bad or sad?

**Author's Note:**

> This is one part of a series I hope to continue based around Miranda and Cassie’s living their best life in a beach house.
> 
> I am weak for vulnerable Miranda, so apologies that she is so ooc in this piece. Future pieces will be more varied. 
> 
> Feedback and prompts appreciated.

Miranda’s hand flew to her collarbone, thumb running across the sharp bone as she tried to breathe.

“Honey,” Cassie sighed gently. Her voice was soft and careful as she regarded her girlfriend. It was hard to imagine she had once been scared of the woman who she had come to share her life with. “You need to come and sit down for me.” 

Cassie was sat in the living room of the beach-front home she had shared with Miranda in Indonesia for the past two years. With views of the Indian Ocean and no neighbours for five miles it had become their own version of paradise. Miranda was still involved in the criminal world, though she was mainly on the business side of things now- giving orders when a hit was required rather than carrying out the hit herself. Cassie had been recruited by the CIA and spent her time on flights tracking persons of interest. It had been domestic bliss, or as close to domestic bliss as either of the women would ever get. 

Naturally, their life- and in particular Miranda’s history- meant that they could never fully let their guard down. Feliks was still at large, but Viktor was dead. Miranda had enough of a reputation and Cassie had gained enough protections through her new role that most of their risks were managed. Extra security and burner phones were a part of their life, sure, but for the most part they were happy and safe. 

For the last week, however, Miranda’s behaviour had become more and more paranoid. Paranoia was normal for Miranda, it was what had kept her alive but the more Cassie had observed her girlfriend’s behaviour over the last few days, the more concerned she had grown. For once, Miranda’s instinct was off. For once, it seemed that the only threat was an imagined one. 

Her erratic behaviour took Cassie back to how she had been in the aftermath of Alex’s death. Did that mean that Cassie now had to be as calm as Miranda had been then. Her mind drifted to their first months on the run; the way Cassie had drunk to oblivion, the way Miranda had always made sure she got to bed safely and then, when the time came for her to give up the booze, she had supported her without question- talking her down from relapses and holding her as she shivered with withdrawal symptoms.

Despite her initial worries that Miranda couldn’t be trusted, she’d turned out to be the most dependable relationship she’d ever had.

Now it was Cassie’s turn to help Miranda.

To say she was shit scared would be an understatement. 

“They’ve been here,” Miranda hissed, drawing Cassie out of her thoughts. “Can’t you tell? They’ve moved...They’ve moved the books...”

Miranda’s eyes were wide and frightened. Not unlike when they’d been on the run from Feliks. Except this time, there was none of the focus or precision that had shone in her blue eyes two years ago. There was just fear. At first, Cassie had believed Miranda’s fears- the concern that they were being followed and an old foe was out to get them. Soon though, she realised there were no threat, at least not one that existed outside of Miranda’s mind. A quick consultation with Cecilia earlier that week- the woman had known Miranda more than Cassie had at one stage, after all- revealed that this was not new. 

Miranda has suffered from a bout of paranoia about a decade before. It had started after an assignment had gone wrong. She’d survived the assignment, but only just. Viktor had been furious with how messy the killing had been, she’d had near fatal injuries (the deep scar on Miranda’s lower back, the one she never spoke about, now made sense) and the resulting mess had proved catastrophic for Miranda’s mental health. Cecilia had mentioned, however, that the woman hadn’t become anxious (as she was now), instead she had become angry- manic and self destructive. She’d eventually been ordered by Viktor to stay at home, under Cecilia’s watch, to avoid anymore monumental “fuck ups”. It had been at a time when she was still one of Viktor’s greatest assets. Had she been anyone else, she probably would have been dealt with differently. That manic phase had lasted two weeks, followed by a week of silence. The anxiety, Cecilia had warned, was unknown territory. But her final warning had been ominous: “Cassie, you must realise by now that no one lives Miranda’s life and comes out okay. They either die or go mad.”

“They’re after me,” Miranda said. Cassie’s heart broke, she’d never heard her girlfriend sound so frightened. That lack of confidence was not something she’d ever heard in Miranda’s voice. “I think they put something in my coffee. I can’t breathe. They’ve poisoned me.” 

Cassie sighed, brow creasing. It was a special kind of irony that Miranda’s delusions were believable in the context of their lives. In her old life, before Alex and Miranda and Bangkok, she would have never believed anyone that was claiming to be poisoned. With Miranda, if she didn’t know better, she would have believed her. 

“Sweetie, no one has poisoned you,” Cassie said calmly. She stood and crossed the floor, gently tugging Miranda’s hand and leading her back to the sofa. “I’ve been with you the whole time. I think... I think you might be having a panic attack. It’s okay, it happens but I need you to let me help you.” 

Gently, Cassie guided Miranda to sit down on the sofa as she took a seat next to the woman. She was still holding Miranda’s hand- it was clammy and shaking. It reminded Cassie of her drinking days. 

“Panic...No,” Miranda said, struggling to get her words out. Cassie watched in concern as she watched Miranda gasp for breath. She squeezed her girlfriend’s hand, running a thumb along the woman’s knuckles. “I can’t breathe.” 

“It’s okay, you’re safe,” Cassie promised. Then, she thought back to her the training she’d received once; training to help a passenger suffering a panic attack. “Look at me, Miranda. I need you to take some deep breaths, okay. Just nod for me.” 

A few seconds passed but Miranda soon nodded. Then she stopped and shook her head quickly, eyes squeezed shut as she clawed at her chest. 

“Okay, lets do this together,” Cassie said decisively. Squeezing Miranda’s hand to remind her she was there, to try and bring her back to the present. “Take a deep breath in...” 

Cassie illustrated by taking her own deep breath in, she stroked her thumb across Miranda’s hand encouragingly as she watched the other woman struggle to catch her breath. She winced at the redness that had appeared on her cheeks and the damp tears that were starting to form and trail down her cheeks. 

She’d never seen Miranda cry. 

“I can’t. I...” Miranda tried and failed to take a deep breath. “I can’t breathe.” 

Cassie moved closer to Miranda, she placed her hand flat on the woman’s back and rubbed firm circles between her shoulder blades. She deliberately avoided the deep scar on her lower back; it was no longer painful but Miranda had always been sensitive to it in a different way. She got jumpy and maudlin when the scar was brought up. After Cecilia’s revelations, it suddenly made sense. Miranda felt warmer than normal, sweat causing her linen shirt to stick to her skin. For a moment, it caused Cassie to pause- had Miranda been poisoned? But then reason took over, she knew that any fast acting toxin was just that- fast acting. Miranda would become unwell, vomit and likely pass out within hours of being poisoned. Wasn’t that what had happened to those Russians in that British market town? Either way, Cassie was certain that shortness of breath and hyperventilating were both signs of a panic attack. 

Slipping down from the sofa, she repositioned herself to kneel in front of Miranda. One of her hands found its way to Miranda’s thigh, squeezing in gentle reassurance. Her other hand reached up and cupped Miranda’s cheek.

“You can breathe,” Cassie reassured. “Miranda, I’m going to need you to listen to me. You haven’t been poisoned. If you’d been poisoned, you’d be foaming from the mouth by now. You know that. I know deep down you know that.” 

Something she had said reached Miranda this time. Not enough to stop her ragged breathing but enough to make her sit up slightly and listen to Cassie. 

“Okay, okay,”Cassie said, buying time as she thought through her next move. Her hand that was placed on Miranda’s thigh tightened its grip; encouraging her to stay focused. The fringed denim of Miranda’s shorts caught under her fingers. “You’re with me now, honey, that’s good. I need you to take a deep breath with me, okay? Follow me...” 

Cassie took a deep breath, all the while encouraging Miranda to follow her. To her relief, her girlfriend inhaled deeply this time. 

“That’s it, good. Good,” Cassie encouraged. “Now I need you to breathe out. Like this...” 

Cassie let out a long exhale, smiling in relief as Miranda followed her. In, out, in out. It went on for about five minutes like this until, finally, Miranda’s breath seemed to return to a more normal pattern. Cassie looked up at the other woman, noting her paled features. She looked more pale than when she had been shot by Viktor. She was trembling, despite the heat and it was quite clear that while the immediate panic attack was over, all was still not well. 

There was a few seconds of silence. Cassie watched keenly as Miranda reclined back against the sofa. She watched as Miranda ran her hand over her face and muttered to herself. 

“Stupid woman,” she hissed harshly. “Stupid...”

“You’re not stupid,” Cassie said softly as she rejoined her on the sofa. “You’re not. It happens to so many people.” 

Miranda looked over at Cassie, face still pale and cheeks damp. “I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t need to apologise, honey. You really don’t. I think that...I think that maybe now your anger is better managed, some things are manifesting differently.” 

It was true, Miranda had got her anger much more under control in the last two years. Before Miranda could reply- and in truth Cassie wasn’t convinced that she would reply, a noise from the doorway.

Meow. 

Both women looked up and over at their adopted kitten, Masha. The kitten padded its way over to the lounge, jumping up into Miranda’s lap. The woman was momentarily startled but quickly placed by hands on the kitten and started to stroke her. A flicker of a smile crossed Miranda’s face.

“Oh look! Masha knows her mama needed her...” Cassie said.

Miranda didn’t criticise Cassie in the way she usually did when she infantilised their pet. She did, however, settle down further. 

Cassie reached out and stroked Masha behind the ear. Then, tentatively, she leaned in closer to Miranda and placed a gently kiss on her forehead. Standing, she said, “let me look after you? We’ll get through whatever this is together?” 

To her surprise, Miranda nodded. Cassie beamed; pleased to see the colour returning to a Miranda’s cheeks. 

“You stay there and rest, I’m going to get you one of those herbal teas you like.” 

“Thank you,” Miranda murmured. “Are you sure you know what you’ve got yourself into? People like me either die or go mad.” 

Cassie smiled sadly. 

“Sweetie, I knew what I’d gotten myself into the moment I kicked my shoe at you.”


End file.
